


The Punishment Job

by SingingTheThunder



Category: Leverage
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Corporal Punishment, Domestic Discipline, F/M, M/M, Missing Scenes, Multi, Spanking, Tagged to episode, The sexy kind, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism, and the not sexy kind, basically this is me playing with my impact play kink and the characters of Leverage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4558851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingingTheThunder/pseuds/SingingTheThunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have an issue with how much disobedience/putting themselves in danger/etc fictional characters get away with and I also have an impact play fetish. So I decided to combine the two.<br/>Leverage seemed the obvious place to start what with a canon kinky character (Nate) as the leader and a truly outrageous number of incidents that just get swept aside.<br/>Basically this is a bunch of Eliot spanking Nate, Nate spanking Eliot and Nate and Eliot arguing over who gets to spank Hardison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Snow Job

**Author's Note:**

> Tagged to the episode The Snow Job in season one. Warnings for M/M, voyeurism, belting and alcohol consumption.  
> Context: In the episode Nate and Eliot have an argument about Nate being drunk. Eliot nearly makes it physical, but is stopped by Sophie. He leaves, still furious. Sophie and Nate talk. The next time scene it's the next day and Eliot is following Nate's plan without a word of complaint. Clearly something had to have happened to change his point of view between scenes.

“You're not in control of yourself.” That much was entirely true. “I ain't your daddy. You can drink yourself into a coma as far as I'm concerned, but you start taking me down with you, then it's my problem.” For some reason Eliot's words kept coming back to Nate. He raised the glass to his lips, then hesitated. Sophie was right, he wasn't the same person, none of them were and that was down to him. He'd changed each of his team, his family, maybe only slightly for now, but if this continued none of them would be the people they were before.

With a sudden movement, Nate sent the glass flying across the room, shards of glass and splatters of alcohol repatterning the wallpaper.

“It's a start.” Eliot stood in the doorway, expression hidden in shadow and arms folded.

Nate laughed, roughly and slightly madly. “Come to talk more? Before all this I thought you only spoke with your fists.”

“We can do it that way if you want, but I'd prefer to give you a chance at defence.” Eliot's voice was low, his accent coming through more strongly than Nate had heard before.

For the first time Nate felt a flicker of fear, luckily or perhaps unluckily he was still drunk enough to ignore the feeling. “I thought I told you to go skip rope or something actually useful to the team, I'm still the one giving orders here.” He made a shooing motion with his hand.

Eliot chuckled darkly and stepped further into the room. “I only take orders when I trust the one giving them, Nate.” He stopped in front of the armchair Nate was sitting in. “Right now you don't even trust your team to tell you when you've had enough. Get up.”

Nate started to push himself to his feet before he realised what he was doing and sunk back down again. “I'm not going to fight you, Eliot. I'm sober enough to know how well that would turn out.”  
Eliot nodded, then grabbed the front of Nate's shirt to haul him out of the chair, then spun to slam the older man face first into the wall and pin him there. “I ain't asking you to fight.” Eliot's voice was a barely audible snarl. “I'm telling you to obey.”

There was a long moment where the pair held themselves still, both tensed, then Nate began struggling. The hitter was easily able to hold the mastermind in place and soon enough Nate slumped. Eliot kept him there for a moment, then slowly took away the pressure, breathing a sigh of relief when Nate remained where he was. Eliot walked into the middle of the room, then beckoned Nate over. Hunched over and avoiding looking at the other man, he followed, only resisting a little when Eliot pressed down on his shoulders before dropping to his knees.

Eliot leaned down and tilted Nate's head up, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You gotta let us do some of the work, let us take some of the burden.”

Nate tried to shake his head, hissing in annoyance when Eliot held him still. “I get it, you're frustrated that you're not in charge. Go take it out on something else. I'm not your punching bag, Spencer.”

Eliot considered this for a moment, then stood up, pacing a few predatory circles around Nate before stopping behind him. “Wrong again.” Without bothering to add which bit Nate was wrong about he crouched down and snapped handcuffs onto Nate's wrists.

The mastermind struggled round on his knees to face Eliot, tugging against the cuffs. He wobbled, but Eliot caught him and helped him get comfortable. Their eyes met, Nate's showing his confusion and Eliot's far gentler than before. “It’s okay, Nate. You don't need to pretend with me.”

“I- I'm-.” Nate's attempt at speaking ended as Eliot gently stroked his hair. The mastermind leant into the touch, almost naturally falling into Eliot's arms which immediately tightened around him. He allowed this for a long minute, then squirmed a little, angling his head so he could look at Eliot. “Why?” Nate whispered.

Eliot smiled. “Guess I'm the only one here who can figure out what you need, because it sure as hell isn't alcohol.” The smile slid off his face to be replaced with a stern expression, “In fact there's a couple of rules you need to follow.” Before Nate could protest, Eliot placed a finger to the other man's mouth. “No drinking to excess on a job and no turning up to job stuff drunk or hung-over. That's all.”

Nate nodded, neither request was unreasonable and both had caused issues during this last job. “And if I slip up?” he forced himself to ask, wondering why exactly he was scared of the answer.

For the first time Eliot hesitated. “We end up here with you on your knees again only you'll be hurting a damn sight more.”

Nate considered this for a moment, then nodded and replied, “I reckon I can trust you not to permanently damage me.”

There was a quiet click and Eliot brought his arm up to look at the cuff now attached to it. Nate pushed himself to his feet, leaving Eliot's hands cuffed together and dangled the key in front of the hitter. “You might want to keep the cuff keys somewhere you're not planning draping the person you've cuffed over.”

Eliot closed his eyes for a moment, then looked up at Nate slightly sheepishly. “You're no Parker, I felt you take them.”

Nate laughed, a completely different sound from before, he hadn't felt this sober in months. “And you didn't do anything to stop me, I wonder why that is, hmm?”

Unlike Nate had before, Eliot settled back on his heels, apparently entirely comfortable with kneeling. “I'm not the leader of this group, Nate. I could never hold us together the way you have. You were wrong when you said I had a problem with not being the one in charge. If this is what you need to remind yourself you control the group ...” he said, then shrugged. “I've worked for men with stranger needs.”

Nate put the handcuffs key on a side table in full view and frowned down at Eliot. “Okay, so tell me, Eliot, since you apparently know so much better than I do, what do I 'need'?”

Eliot brushed the hair out of his eyes with the practised ease of someone who spent a lot of time with his hands bound before answering, “To reassert control over the one who stepped out of line. Might not of meant it as a challenge, but it was.”

Nate nodded and made a noise of agreement, before pacing to stand behind Eliot in order to loom over him. The hitter remained still for a long moment, then twitched, clearly unhappy about not having Nate in his line of sight.

The mastermind waited for Eliot to break the silence. “So, what are you going to do? You know exactly how much of a beating I can take, probably better than even I do. Or is that too rough? M- One of my former employers used sex, but then again you're the good guy. Right?”

In a single movement, Nate grabbed Eliot by the back of the neck and forced him forward, doubled over with his hands trapped beneath him. The hitter made an automatic and soon aborted motion to defend himself, then simply submitted, breathing slow and tightly controlled.

“How sure of that are you, Eliot?” Nate's tone was ice cold. “You attack me, then presume to tell me what to do and then you think this little show of obedience will fix it.”

“You agreed!” Eliot growled.

Nate responded by forcing his head even lower and saying, “Our agreement has nothing to do with this, understood?”

The hitter tried to nod, then spat out a positive answer. Nate smiled, knowing Eliot couldn't see and released his neck. Eliot remained where he was, hunched over, while Nate stepped over to the broken glass on the floor. Looking up at the sound of clinking, Eliot's eyes widened. “Whoa, careful with that … wouldn't want to cut yourself.” The 'or me' went unspoken.

Not bothering to reply, Nate walked back over and tugged Eliot up enough that he could cut through the front of Eliot's shirt. The hitter held almost perfectly still as Nate carefully cut the shirt away from his body. After placing the shard of glass carefully on the table next to the handcuff key, he turned to look at Eliot. “Back into position,” Nate ordered coldly.

Eliot met Nate's eyes for a long moment, then leant forward again, bracing himself on bound arms. At the edge of his line of sight, Eliot could see Nate start rolling up his sleeves. When the mastermind moved behind him again, a shiver ran up the hitter's spine. Nate allowed himself a little smile at that.

Some of the visible tension drained out of Eliot when he heard the distinctive sound of leather hissing through belt loops.

The first blow came as no surprise, but Eliot still made a tiny noise. He managed to stay completely silent for the second, even though the diagonal angle it took covered more of his back. The third mirrored the first, only on the other side of his back, but it was only when Nate repeated the pattern that Eliot realised what he was doing.

“N for narcissist, huh?” Eliot asked. Nate carefully held back a laugh, impressed with that fact his hitter was still confident enough to joke.

He let the next few hits fall a bit harder despite his amusement; he wouldn't let Eliot get away with even that small piece of disrespect. Nate continued the N shape until he was sure it wouldn't fade quickly, then let the belt drop to the floor. Eliot sighed quietly in relief, but didn't yet move, waiting for permission.

Nate gently traced the marks he'd left with a finger. Eliot shifted a little, trying to avoid even that much pressure on the forming bruises. The mastermind pulled Eliot up and into an embrace, careful not to jar his back too badly. The hitter made a mewling sound, then quickly cleared his throat pretending it never happened.

With a small grin at how quickly their positions had been reversed, Eliot presented Nate with his bound hands only for the mastermind to shake his head. “You get a choice … either I unlock the cuffs and that's the end of it or …”

Eliot rolled his eyes, before asking, “Or what? I do something about the fact you're hard?”

Nate spluttered something unintelligible, before nodding sheepishly.

“I'm practically in your lap here, it's obvious.” Eliot explained in answer to the question he assumed Nate had been trying to ask. “And if you're like this with her no wonder Sophie's given up hope.” The hitter wiggled a little, pressing the curve of his ass against Nate's groin. “Have you seriously not had sex since your ex-wife or something?”

“I was right,” Nate muttered, “You do talk too much.”

Eliot rolled his eyes again. “So shut me up.” The hitter twisted to kiss Nate, doing his best to dominate. The mastermind reacted quickly to that, pressing harder against his lips and grabbing Eliot's hair. Nate pushed Eliot roughly down, twisting him so his marked back hit the floor resulting in a yelp muffled by the kiss.

Straddling Eliot, Nate glared down at him. “That was a dirty trick.”

Eliot attempted to shrug, then stopped with a wince. “Still worked.” He reached up to unfasten Nate's trousers, easily managing it despite his bound hands and the awkward angle.

The first warning they get is a brief knock on the door, then Hardison is opening the door and it’s too late for the pair of them to change position. The long silence that results is the most awkward moment any of the three men have experienced. Hardison is the one to finally break it. “So … I see you haven’t killed each other … also seeing way more than I wanted to. Damn, Eliot, put some clothes on. The pair of ya are just plain nasty.” With this damning statement, he turned and slammed the door behind him.

Carefully ignoring the curious stares of Parker and Sophie who had only been able to hear his words and not see into the room, Hardison headed to his bedroom, before closing and locking the door. He was absolutely certain he shouldn’t be this turned on. He swore quietly and sat down abruptly, leaning against the door. He was doomed.

Back in the hallway, Parker hesitantly crept forward and silently opened the door, somehow managing to avoid creaking the hinges. Just behind her, Sophie leaned over Parker’s shoulder to see into the room beyond. Sophie made a squealing noise, then quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Nate sighed and under him Eliot grinned towards the two women, winking at the pair.

Without saying a word Parker slipped away for mysterious reasons of her own, leaving a shocked Sophie framed in the doorway. After a long awkward moment in which Nate looked everywhere but at Sophie and Eliot steadily blushed redder and redder, Sophie finally spoke, “In the sitting room? Seriously, both of you have perfectly good bedrooms. Then again, both of you do have exhibitionist tendencies, especially you, Nate.”

Nate spluttered some sort of protest, which turned into an understandable “no, no, no, no” when Sophie walked towards the armchair he’d been pulled out of by Eliot earlier and sat down in a ladylike manner, the door swinging closed behind her.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” she said, as though there was any chance of that.

Eliot’s blush still hadn’t faded, but he grinned and started nibbling at Nate’s neck. Nate, caught between two evilly grinning thieves, gave in and shoved Eliot flat on the floor again.

Without warning the door swung open again and Parker lobbed a bottle of lube full force at Nate, catching him in the shoulder. Rubbing the spot, he retrieved the bottle and looked up at Parker with a raised eyebrow, but she had already gone.

Sophie clapped her hands, “Well, get on with it.”

Nate sighed quietly as Eliot agreed loudly.


	2. The Mile High Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hardison may have saved all their lives, but it's his fault they were in danger in the first place. Nate (and Eliot who is 100% incapable of interfering with Hardison's punishments) decide to give their hacker a reason not to mess around.  
> Warnings: Non sexual spanking, paddling, Nate and Eliot being rubbish at aftercare, but Hardison makes them try.

Hardison had never been more aware of how predatory Eliot could seem. The hitter had stalked into the hacker's office the moment they had time to be alone. It took Hardison until Eliot had him pinned against the desk, bent backwards with his chair knocked over, before he understood exactly how angry the hitter was.

Eliot's growled words were a clue as well, “Do you have any idea what you did? Nate should have done something about you long before it got to the point of putting us in danger.”

“What I did?” Hardison responded, offended. “You mean the saving of every one of your asses?”

The hitter growled wordlessly and forced Hardison further back on the desk. “I mean goofing off to play your games, messing about. If you'd been there to hack the lifts and computer we'd have been there shorter and found out that they were going to bring the plane down. It's your fault we got on the plane in the first place and needed our asses saving.”

A sudden noise startled Eliot and he looked up to find Nate standing in the doorway clapping sarcastically. Eliot slowly let go of Hardison who wisely decided to stay where he was. “Thank you, Eliot,” Nate said, his tone cold. “I see you've decided to start without me.”

Looking between the pair, Hardison shuddered and straightened up. “Uh, do you two need to talk this out alone? Because I can do that.”

Both men turned to glare at Hardison and snapped “stay,” at the same moment.

“Okay, okay.” The hacker raised his hands in surrender.

Nate was the first to look away, turning his harsh gaze to Eliot who glared back stubbornly, then his eyes flicked towards the floor for a second. Nate visibly relaxed and Hardison frowned, having no idea what had just happened, but not wanting their attention back on him. However, when Nate jerked his head towards the door, Eliot shook his head and stayed where he was.

Nate sighed and ordered, “Eliot, now.”

Eliot didn't even hesitate before folding his arms. “I'm staying. I protect this team, even from each other.”

“Whoa, I don't need protecting from Nate!” Hardison interjected. “Do I?”

“Not if you can keep your mouth shut, but that's impossible with you,” Eliot said, his eyes still on Nate whose mouth twitched in amusement.

Quickly returning to his stern expression, Nate nodded. “Fine, but you interfere without good reason and what Hardison gets will seem like nothing in comparison. Understood?”

Eliot nodded, but Hardison cleared his throat and said, “Uh, excuse me, but what I'm getting? Pretty sure I can live without getting anything.”

Nate beckoned Hardison, who made sure to take his time walking around the desk. Meanwhile, Eliot picked up and sat down in Hardison's desk chair, then folded his arms, his expression stormy. The hacker stopped in front of Nate and opened his mouth to start babbling nervously. Before he could start he noticed what Nate was carrying and stood speechless for a moment, then started on a different track, “Oh, hell no. Why do you even own that thing? And now I'm having weird thoughts about – that's just nasty, man.”

Eliot snorted a laugh, earning himself a glare from Nate. He quickly looked innocent.

Hardison was too busy staring at the paddle as though it was going to attack on its own to even spare Eliot a glance. “Nuh uh, there is no way – I haven't been paddled since I was fifteen and my Nana caught me lying to her. Hell no.” Hardison folded his arms in an unconscious imitation of Eliot.

Nate nodded, then put the paddle aside so he could start unbuckling his belt. “Fine, if you think –“  
Hardison immediately relented, backing away until he hit his desk. “On second thought you were right the first time.”

“Over the desk,” Nate ordered, as he picked the paddle back up.

Eliot had to fight to keep himself from laughing at the deer in the headlights expression Hardison had as he slowly turned around. The hacker glared at Eliot as he placed his hands on the desk. “One word about this to Sophie or Parker and I swear you’ll never be able to do anything online ever again.”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Eliot asked, “Would I do that to you?”

Hardison expressed his uncertainty about the answer with a raised eyebrow, only to duck his head as Nate pushed down on his back forcing him further over the desk.

“If you’re quite finished stalling?” Nate asked sarcastically, keeping his hand pressed to the small of Hardison’s back until he got a nod in response. When Nate removed his hand, Eliot reached out and took Hardison’s hands in his, giving him something to hold onto that wasn’t the sharp corners of the opposite desk edge. Hardison looked up, oddly reassured by Eliot’s little shrug in response to the unasked question.

The first blow caused Hardison to instinctively start to stand, Eliot’s hold on his hands the only thing keeping him bent over. Nate gave Hardison time to recover from the shock, waiting until the hitter settled himself again.

“Give a guy some warning,” Hardison grumbled, mostly to himself.

However, Nate wasted no time in responding, “I’ve given you plenty of warnings. Every time you mess around on the job, but this is beyond that.”

Hardison squirmed a little, only now starting to recognise that the others might have a good reason to be mad. Nate punctuated the fact he was done talking with the second hit. The hacker yelped and clung on to Eliot.

The hitter had to keep him from standing with both the next blows, then something seemed to give and Hardison went limp over the desk. Nate apparently took this as his cue to start lecturing again, “This might be the first time it’s put anyone in real danger, but this has to stop. The next time you mess around on the job …” Nate finished his sentence with a particular hard set of smacks to the top of Hardison’s thighs.

The hacker went onto the tips of his toes, unable to keep from crying out. Nate let him take the time to settle back over the desk and though Hardison was now trying to hide his face, Eliot could see the fresh glint of tears. Eliot squeezed Hardison’s hands in an instinctual attempt at comfort and was rewarded by the hacker squeezing back. Clinging to Eliot like this, Hardison was able to take the last five with only a few muffled whimpers.

Nate set the paddle down on the desk next to Hardison with an audible click. The hacker remained laying where he was until Eliot tugged gently at his hands. Hardison stood with a wince, releasing Eliot’s hands in favour of reaching back to rub. “Damn,” he muttered as he turned to face Nate. “You’ve got nearly as good an arm as my Nanna.”

Eliot chuckled and walked around the desk, figuring he wasn’t needed as referee any longer. Before he could get past Hardison though, the hacker pulled Eliot and Nate into a tight hug. Both men automatically tensed, then exchanged a glance over Hardison’s head. Despite being taller than both, Hardison was hunched over and had buried his face in Eliot’s shoulder. Nate shrugged, trying not to jostle Hardison with the motion, then put his arms around the young hacker.

The hug was both awkward and comforting for all involved. Eliot and Nate waited for Hardison to make the first move away and when he finally did so, they both stepped back.

Hardison looked a little sheepish, but the set of his chin and his glare dared either of them to say anything. It took all of Eliot’s impressive self-control not to break into a fond smile. Nate cleared his throat and patted Hardison on the shoulder. “I hope we don’t end up here again,” he said.

“But you will if … yeah, got it,” Hardison said, almost flippantly, then added in a rather more serious tone, “I never woulda played my game if I’d known it would put all of you in danger.”

“The job should come first,” Nate said, causing Eliot to frown, he didn’t think that was quite the point they had been trying to get across.

Hardison nodded, then turned towards the door. He’d only got a couple of steps before he stopped and turned around again. “Wait, this is my office, you two get out.” He made shooing motions with his hands.

Eliot grinned to himself as he and Nate left, earning himself a raised eyebrow from the mastermind. He just shrugged in response, not quite sure how to explain his extreme relief that Hardison was okay.


	3. The Two Horse Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All you really need to know is that Nate and Eliot now have a sort of established relationship and any homosexual panic either of them may have had is 100% in the past by this point. They're not exclusive and Sophie is aware. I'll deal more with the whole Sophie thing in a couple of chapters, which hopefully won't take as long as this one did.  
> Warnings for use of a belt, discussion of use of a riding crop and a little bit of actual slash, though apparently something is stopping me showing actual sex on screen. I'm sure I'll manage it at some point.

Sophie, Parker and Hardison had set off to return Kentucky Thunder to his owners, but Nate caught Eliot’s arm as he’d gone to follow the group. “We need to talk,” Nate said blandly, sending a shiver of fear down Eliot’s spine.

Still holding his arm, Nate led a reluctant Eliot into the stall Kentucky Thunder had occupied until Sophie had coaxed him out moments ago. The stall door swung shut behind them, giving them a small amount of privacy. Eliot subconsciously rubbed his arm once Nate finally let go and stood there, waiting for Nate to speak.

He didn’t have to wait long. “You saved the con,” Nate pointed out.

Eliot wasn’t in the mood for Nate’s mind games and replied, “If this is going to be one of those ‘talks’ where you whup my ass, get on with it. We haven’t got long until the others get back and I’d rather do this without the audience.”

“Just as long as you understand -” Nate began, but was cut off by an impatient Eliot.

“I disobeyed a direct order, I got too emotionally caught up in the con, that enough for you?” Eliot growled, then abruptly turned to slam his hands flat against the wall to brace himself and leant forward a little. There was a long pause, then Eliot added, “Get on with it.”

He tensed up as he heard Nate step towards him, then Nate's hand was gently running through Eliot's hair. It took several repeats of this petting motion before some of the tension left Eliot's body and he leaned towards Nate's touch.

“I'm not going to punish you for leaving Aimee,” Nate informed him softly, “We both know you had your reasons.”

Eliot started to protest, then simply nodded. Nate ran his hand over Eliot's scalp and neck one last time, then stepped away. There was the sound of Nate unzipping the bag he'd left in the corner of the stall, Eliot held position, but couldn't resist glancing over his shoulder to see what Nate was going to use.

When he saw, he flinched and said with a forced calm, “No. Not a crop, Nate. There's … I just can't.”

Nate frowned and looked at the riding crop in his hand. “Aimee said you reacted best to it?”

“That was a long time ago,” Eliot responded, looking forward towards the wall rather than meet Nate's questioning gaze. “If you must know, it reminds me of an ex-lover. We parted on … less than good terms.”

The mastermind nodded in understanding and put the crop back in the bag; he'd return it to Aimee later. He doubted he'd mention it had gone unused though.

Nate unbuckled his belt and slid it through the loops, as he did so Eliot shifted a little to keep his legs from going dead. “Lose the jeans,” Nate ordered almost causally, folding the belt in half and giving it a couple of practice sweeps through the air.

Without hesitation, Eliot undid and yanked his jeans down to his knees before returning his hands to the wall, not even bothering to look back at Nate. Behind him, Nate stepped close and hooked his fingers of both hands into the waistband of Eliot's boxers, one either side, hemming Eliot in. The belt still in Nate's hand brushed Eliot's leg and the hitter automatically flinched away from it. Nate decided not to comment as he pulled the underwear to join Eliot's jeans.

Eliot's shirt was long enough that Nate added an order to remove it to get it out of the way. The hitter finally looked back at that and rolled his eyes. “If you wanted me naked, you just had to say so.” he muttered.

Nate grinned, enjoying the view as his hitter shrugged out of the blue and white shirt in a single fluid motion and sent it fluttering to the floor just behind him. With this much of Eliot exposed and his vest doing very little to cover the tiny shifting motions of his back muscles, Nate's dick decided to pay attention and half hardened, pressing slightly painfully against his zip. Thoughts of sparing Eliot the punishment and simply burying himself inside the beautiful man in front of him passed through his head, but were quickly shaken away. He needed to be consistent for Eliot trust him even a little and while this might be the first time he'd had reason to properly punish the hitter, the simple knowledge of what Eliot expected was enough.

Putting aside thoughts of his nagging arousal, Nate spoke, “Remind we why we're here, Eliot.”

The only reply he got was an annoyed growl and Eliot ducked his head to glare at the straw covered floor through the cage of his braced arms.

“Eliot?” Nate repeated, fully believing in the importance of getting the younger man to confess before absolution.

“I'm here because I got too emotionally involved in a job,” Eliot snarled, then added with a hint of amusement, “You're here because you're a sadistic bastard.”

Apparently ignoring the insult Nate nodded even though Eliot couldn't see him and said, “Good enough. Ten for the stunt with the horse and five for sleeping with a client while on the job. We really need a rule about not having sex with coms in. Oh, and five for that little comment.” If Eliot could have seen Nate, he'd have glared at the smirk that followed this sentencing.

“You want me to count?” Eliot asked, sounding detached already.

Nate had apparently already thought about this because he had an immediate answer. “If it'll help you, you have permission, but I don't require it.”

Eliot nodded, then added, “I'd rather stay quiet if it's all the same to you.”

Without bothering to answer, Nate raised the belt and brought it down with a vicious whistle that took all Eliot's self control not to tense at, immediately followed by a harsh cracking noise as it impacted. Eliot swayed slightly, then braced himself more fully.

Nate took a few moments to gauge his hitter's response, then aimed the next blow slightly harder and slightly lower, not wanting the stripes to overlap until it was impossible to avoid. It was only when he was rewarded with a quiet gasp as Eliot drew in breath, that Nate decided that was the right force to apply.

Eliot suffered through the first five with only a few quiet intakes of breath and occasional shifting of position. The sixth, which lapped at the under-curve of his behind where a vivid welt had already been laid down, drew a strangled yelp from between Eliot's clenched teeth. Immediately, he followed it with a quiet growl, annoyed at his own weakness.

The next four were placed from low to high, neatly fitting within the marks already left. By the end of that set, Eliot was shaking with the effort of keeping himself quiet and in position.

He heard the quiet clink as Nate set the belt down and tensed up, surely Nate would respect his refusal of the riding crop, but Eliot couldn't think of any other reason, at least until the mastermind gently cupped the back of his head and turned it to the side. Nate had produced a bottle of water, presumably from the bag and he held it up to Eliot's lips. The hitter drank slowly, only being allowed the liquid in sipping amounts, but Nate kept it up until Eliot had drunk as much as he wanted, which he indicated with a little shake of his head.

“You okay?” Nate asked, voice steady as he screwed the lid back on the bottle and returned it to his bag.

It took Eliot a moment to remember how making words worked, then he answered, “Yes, sir,” the honorific entirely instinctive.

Nate's breath caught, those two words had no right to be so much of a turn on. In an attempt to distract himself, he stooped to pick up the belt again and asked, “Ready for round two?” hoping that his voice sounded more in control than he felt.

Eliot repeated, “Yes, sir,” and Nate bit his lip, distracting himself from unhelpful thoughts.

Repositioning himself so that the tip of the belt would wrap around the opposite side to the one the previous blows had, Nate swung backhand to start refreshing the stripes from the top.

The break seemed to have destroyed some of Eliot's considerable willpower and by the time Nate was about to work his way back up again, Eliot was shaking a little with silent sobs.

Nate finished the punishment with considerable relief and threw the belt aside, ignoring the jangle as it hit a bit of the floor not fully covered with straw. He remained standing where he was, giving Eliot time to recover. 

The hitter wiped his eyes on his arm before moving to re-clothe himself. He managed his underwear in silence, but the rough denim of his jeans elicited a sharp hiss. Eliot fiddled a bit with his hair and rubbed his face again to get rid of any remaining tears, before finally turning slowly to face Nate.

The pair of men stared at each other for a long moment, then Eliot was the first to look away. “I'm sorry,” Eliot said after a few long seconds of staring at Nate's left shoe.

Nate shook his head. “Entirely forgiven.” He hesitated, before deciding to ask the question he suspected Eliot least wanted him to ask; “Why cry? I've seen you take a worse beating in a fight and just get more angry.”

To Nate's surprise, Eliot didn't seem offended. “Punishment's different.” There was a pause, then he added in a rush, “It hurts worse knowing I've failed again.”

It took two steps for Nate to get close enough to Eliot to pull him into an awkward hug and the mastermind was pretty sure he was putting his life on the line by doing so. “You didn't fail Aimee or me. What you did, it saved the con,” Nate said quietly. “It was risky, but it paid off. I punished you so that next time you put yourself and your safety before the job. Do you understand?”

Eliot huffed a laugh and nodded against Nate's shoulder, before saying, “Yeah, I just don't think you get to lecture me on treating the job as the most important thing.”

Nate stepped backwards out of the hug looking mock stern. “And that would be why I have you, to stop me from going too far. I- they- we. We need you.”

“I'm not planning on going anywhere any time soon.” Eliot tried to make it sound like a joke, but there was an undercurrent of pain as he thought of Aimee.

“There's not many who'd stick around after taking a beating from their boss,” Nate pointed out, not unreasonably.

Eliot shrugged. “It'll take more than a deserved whupping to drive me away.”

Nate's smile in response to that was entirely genuine. “Good.”

“I'm not so sure you'll be so happy with me when it's you on the receiving end,” Eliot said, then drew close to Nate, reaching down to trace the outline of Nate's still half hard cock through his trousers. “I wonder if it'll turn you on as well.” Eliot's voice had gone low and huskier than usual and Nate had to bite down on his lip to keep from whimpering. “I'll know if it does, getting to watch you fighting to keep from humping the air, ass such a pretty shade of red.” Eliot stepped in even closer, pressing the line of his body against Nate's, then grinding their groins together. “But you see, Nate, it wouldn't help. I hope you beg me to let you get off.” Eliot's evil grin wouldn't have looked out of place on a rattlesnake. “Naughty boys don't get to cum.”

With that, Eliot turned and walked towards the door, leaving Nate sagging slightly as he had been leaning towards Eliot without even noticing. Eliot continued smirking as Nate's expression went from dazed lust to pissed off.

From outside, voices could be heard and Nate was pretty sure he heard his and Eliot's names. “Seems the others are back,” Eliot said innocently as he opened the stall door.

Nate adjusted himself, hoping it wasn't too obvious how turned on he was and started quickly tidying up. As he buckled his belt, he considered ways to get back at Eliot for this and calculated how long it would take to get back to the office where he could bend Eliot over a desk and fuck him until he begged. Nate's only consolation was that Eliot would be sitting very uncomfortably for the journey back and that he could make sure to aim for as many potholes as possible.


End file.
